


Comfortable

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Peter POV, Pre-OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2018-10-10 03:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: Peter had long since stopped being surprised at coming home to find Neal and Elizabeth doing some thing or another with one another, chatting, or baking, or, one particularly strange time, picking out drapery in a magazine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 1/23/10. Comment fic. This was my first White Collar fic.

Peter had long since stopped being surprised at coming home to find Neal and Elizabeth doing some thing or another with one another, chatting, or baking, or, one particularly strange time, picking out drapery in a magazine. Honestly, Peter had gotten used to it, and started to think of Neal as something of the second family pet, until, well--

Until.

Now, when he comes home, from something that didn't involve Neal, where Neal wasn't involved, for one reason or another -- and it's starting to feel _wrong_ when Neal isn't involved, but Peter hasn't gotten to the point where he's willing to look into that feeling, and no one's going to push him, but they have started exchanging looks and muttered undercurrents of, "Peter" -- to find Neal and Elizabeth folding paper airplanes on the living room floor, all the furniture pushed against the walls of the room, he doesn't even have the energy to question.

Instead, he sits down in the open space between them both, almost as though they'd left the perfect third point of a triangle, just for him, and says, "What are we doing this for, orphans in New Guinea?"

Elizabeth laughs and Neal gives him a _look_ , and Peter can remember a time when it might have been the reverse, or maybe that's the way it's always been -- maybe he should be more concerned that he can't remember, but he's too relaxed in the company of these people to quite mind. "Neal is teaching me the proper art of folding paper airplanes," Elizabeth says, smiling at Peter in a conspiratorial way as though she might have rolled her eyes, but she doesn't really mind the learning.

"Oh!" Neal exclaims, sending a beautifully aligned airplane wafting toward her, and Peter has to admit that it flies straight, perfect edges and lines and concise folding. "She threw a disgrace to the name of paper airplanes at me, and I had to correct her incorrect understanding," Neal explains, passing a sheet of blank computer paper to Peter, gesturing for him to start folding his own plane. "Let's see if you can do better on your first try."

Said like that, it's obviously a challenge. Peter's never been able to turn down a real challenge, and he knows that Neal knows that -- Elizabeth, too. And right now -- well, right now, Peter's too damn comfortable to care that they're using it against him. Smiling at his own sheet, Peter says, "I'm not sure there's a right response to that," letting the humor glint in his eyes at both his wife and his-- Neal.

 _Comfortable_. That's close. Close enough, at any rate.


End file.
